


Check Mate - Peter and Ches

by CarsonEd82



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:45:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarsonEd82/pseuds/CarsonEd82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU (ish) Peter Pan was the sole inhabitant of Neverland until he was possess by Malcolm. As Malcolm's time begins to run out, Peter begins growing stronger and more in control. Enter the Cheshire Cat trapped in her human form by Cora after helping Jefferson escape in hopes to gain her own freedom. Desperate for a way off the island, she joins forces with Petee/Malcolm, only to realize she's fallen for the true Peter. Will she leave and find her freedom, or save Peter from Malcolm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE REVIEW
> 
> So I know that my character is not the proper Cheshire Cat. In this fan-fiction, Ches was the messenger for Cora and was essentially a slave. She was granted the ability to morph between a panther-like animal and a human and for the last few decades had chosen just the form of the cat.  
> She ends up trapped on Neverland after tricking Cora into letting Jefferson go and trying to leave with him.  
> Peter and Cheshire are both frozen in time at 18  
> When Malcolm is in control, I call him Malcolm, to avoid confusion of who's in control

Cheshire

Cheshire woke with a start. Her back was stiff, her head pounding, and her hair was knotted with sand. With a tremendous groan, she rolled onto her stomach. White sand glared at her with all the glory of the sun. Cheshire braced herself with her hands and pushed off the ground, springing to her feet. It was all wrong though. This body, it wasn't hers. She was standing on two legs, stumbling around like a human mongrel. A hiss escaped her lips as she extended her arms and studied her new found humanoid features. Wrong, wrong, WRONG! She screeched and tore at her arms, it wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Oh Cheshire, stop behaving like a child." Cheshire spun, the sun blinding her, searching for the familiar voice. A light chuckle sounded from behind her form, she spun and faced the immense jungle. There, out of the darkness, emerged her Queen, as tragic as it was. Cheshire glared at the clean cut of Cora's royal clothing. Cora tsked at the sight of Cheshire.

"Now, now Shire. I am so very sorry I have to this." Her mouth puckered into a frown as she stoked Cheshire's cheek. "I know how much you hate your human form. Yet, Neverland could never support your feline shape." Cora brushed past Cheshire, heading towards the ocean waves that lapped lightly at the beach. Cheshire felt her mouth go dry,

"Neverland..." The word died in her mouth, but she knew Cora heard them. Cora sighed, staring into the sunlight, a frown marring her once beautiful face.

"Yes, dear." Her words were cold, "That's what you wanted isn't it? A life of freedom?" She snarled and turned towards Shire,

"That's what Neverland is, a place where dreams and happy endings are found." Cheshire shook her head with horror,

"You know that's a lie! Neverland hasn't been that way in centuries!" Cheshire took a few desperate steps towards the Queen of Hearts. Her human legs screamed in protest, decades of disuse sent needles shooting through her flesh. Shire gasped with pain and collapsed on the beach, sand crunching between her fingers. "Please, I've learned my lesson. Just please, please don't forsake me here." Cheshire looked up at Cora, tears filling her eyes.

"You should have thought about that before you tried to double cross me and leave Wonderland." Cora spun on her heel and strode into the open waters, a shimmer trailing behind her. Cheshire forced herself to her feet and ran after her. The salt water stun her eyes as the raced after the Queen.

"WAIT! Please, give me another chance. I beg of you!" Sea water rushed into her open throat and she began to hack and cough. A tightening around her throat pulled her from the waves and held her in the air. Cora levitated in front of Cheshire's bedraggled form, her hand mimicking the act of choking someone. Cheshire gasped for air, scraping at her neck. Cora tightened her grip.

"You got your wish, you are free. Free from me, from my reign. And you are free to rot here for all eternity, because you do not deserve the right to a mortal life." Cora flicked her wrist and Shire skipped across the water and slammed into the sand. The Queen of Hearts stared at her once loyal messenger with a sense of loss, before she vanished in a puff of purple smoke.

When Cheshire regained consciousness, the sun had begun to set. She leapt to her feet and sprinted out into the waves. Damned if she was going to stay here. Just as she was about to dive, however, Shire slammed into a wall. She heard her nose crack as warm blood began gushing down her face. She pressed her hand against the air in front of her. It was a wall. Cora had walled the island. Cheshire felt her heart stop, she was truly trapped her.

"No..." She whispered, pounding on the invisible wall, "NO, NO, NO!" She screamed and slammed her fists into the walls. She could feel her hands breaking, but the pain was a mere twinge in the back of her mind. Eventually, she passed out in the waves, there gentle flow carrying her back to the safety of the beach.

* * *

Peter

"Someone's here." Felix looked at Peter, a look of confusion on his face. Peter ran his hands over his flute, a far away look in his eyes. "I can't see them..." He muttered, his eyes snapping shut with frustration. He glared at Felix, "Bring them to me." Felix smiled, a cold thirst in his eyes.

"Gladly." Peter smiled at the boy as he took off through the jungle. Felix had always been the most promising lost boy. Malcolm, had attached to him immediately, they both shared dark souls. Peter could feel him, feel Malcolm, just beneath the surface, waiting for a new game to start so he could take over. Peter hated it, he hated having to tiptoe and share his body and mind with this monster. For centuries now, Malcolm had ruled over Peter's life, shut him into a corner of his brain. Since Malcolm's time on the island had started to end, however, Peter was able to control himself again. It was the small victories.

Even now though, Peter could feel Malcolm stirring, an intruder was exactly the type of game that would cause him to take charge. Peter frowned, it was happening. Malcolm wrapped his hand around his neck and yanked him backwards, and the true Peter was once again powerless. Malcolm smiled,

"Thanks for making room, Peter." Malcolm sprung from the log and headed toward the main clearing of camp. Felix was dragging a limb figure towards the firelight. He looked at Malcolm from beneath his ragged hood.

"It's a girl. Done a right number on her fists, found her washed up on the East shoreline." The girl was a mess. She had black hair that went down her back, riddled in knots and sand. Her face was a bloodied mess, her nose looked broken. Her hands were bloodied and broken, like she had been punching something. Malcolm circled her limb body, noting the rise and fall of her chest. She wasn't dead. That was good.

[All the better to play], Malcolm smirked to himself before another voice suddenly popped into his head,

{She's just a girl. She doesn't need any part in your games.} He snarled. It was the real Peter. The sap had been growing stronger every day as the hourglass neared its inevitable time. He had to find the truest believer, and quickly. Or else everything would be ruined.

"Well done, Felix. Leave us, I'll stay with her until she wakes." Felix raised his brow at Malcolm, a smirk ghosting his face,before he melted into the night. Malcom settled on the ground next to the girl and began his vigil

* * *

Cheshire

Her body wasn't used to this. In her panther-like form back in Wonderland, Shire could have healed from a snapped leg in a matter of seconds. However, in this weak human body, her destroyed hands were taking all the energy from her to heal. Throughout the night, Cheshire could feel the bones snapping themselves back into place, the cuts sealing themselves. Her nose cracked back into position, the bruises that peppered her skin faded away. When she finally awoke, her body felt brand new, but the stiffness in her back had not faded. So far, being human sucked.

The air around her was light with the sun of dawn. Dew clung to her skin and smoke from a fire wafter across her skin. She shivered.

"Ah. Finally." Cheshire jumped, flipping on her side to face the stranger. A boy, no older than eighteen, smiled down at her from his seat on an overturned log. "Good morning." Cheshire stared at him, she heart pounding.

"Who are you?" The boy looked at her incredulously,

"Why I'm Peter! Peter Pan, of course." Cheshire nodded and slowly rolled to her feet. It was worse than she had feared.

"Of course you are." She murmured. She surveyed the stranger in front of her. Anyone who's anyone has heard of the infamous Peter Pan, and anyone who's anyone knows to avoid him at all costs. Unfortunately, Cheshire could not run. The mere torture of standing on these toothpicks for legs was taking all her energy. SO she stood tall and studied the boy in front of her. He smiled, a snarky like smile. His eyes were alight with an inside joke, and something else. There was hole there, an emptiness in those eyes. Cheshire frowned as her swept over the dagger sheath on his waist, and the flute slung across his chest. The flute that would bend her to his will, as it did the lost boys.

Malcolm's eyes followed hers, his fingers toyed with the flute and she tensed. He chuckled.

"I see you've heard of me. That's good. But don't worry, the flute is only heard to those who want to hear it. To those who believe in Neverland." Cheshire raised her lip at him.

"Then I will never hear it. This is a prison." Malcolm's eyes darkened, he filled the space in between them and snatched Shire by the throat.

"Watch your tongue." He spat out before he released her. "Everyone who's here, chose to be."

"Oh please," Cheshire regained her balance and looked up at Malcolm, who had a good five inches on her. "Everyone knows you don't allow people to leave your precious island. It is a prison. Especially now with the wall." Malcolm froze. He stared at Cheshire, not comprehending her meaning.

"What wall - " A crash through the surrounding foliage interrupted him. He turned to the sound to see Daniel dragging a bloody Isham into the camp. Malcolm surged forward, knocking Daniel aside.

"What happened?" Malcolm snapped at Daniel who sprawled silently on the ground. "I said, what. HAPPENED?" Malcolm roared. Daniel flinched and covered his face. Malcolm approached the cowering figure, his hand raised. Cheshire reacted without thinking. All she could see was Jefferson when the Queen had his head removed. She leapt in front of Daniel and caught Malcolm's wrist.

When she met his eyes she expected hatred, anger. However, his eyes seemed to ripple from green to a bluer tone. His face went slack and he whispered,

"How did - " His voice seemed to catch, "Why did you do that?" Peter took a step back from Cheshire, staring at his hands incredulously. Suddenly, he bent over, as if in pain and grunted. A ripple seemed to travel through his body again, and Malcolm's eyes turned green once again. He glared at Cheshire.

"You're going into the cage."

* * *

Peter

Peter was in shock. He sat in his mind, watching Malcolm wreak havoc and almost kill Daniel when it happened. The girl, still hadn't learned her name, had defended Daniel. When she touched his wrist...Peter stoked the joint where she had burned him. Malcolm's strength had dissipated for mere seconds, but it had been enough for Pan to feel her touch for himself. Sure, he felt, heard, and saw everything Malcolm did, but this was different. Her touch was electric.

It had scared Malcolm, the momentary power that Peter had gained. The girl sat in one of his cages now, shoved to the back of the camp, shrouded in shadow. The boys were dancing, raging around the fire. The flute flew below Peter's lips. By now the song was second nature, his mind wandered while he played. Malcolm was angry. Peter could feel that much. Yet, it was Peter's time now. Malcolm didn't have enough energy to take full control at night. At night, Peter was somewhat free.  
He stopped playing. The chords sung through the clear air, the boys continued dancing. Pan stood and crossed the camp, his hand skimmed over the cage. The wood shuddered as the girl tensed.

"No need for that." She didn't believe him. He knew that much. Peter sighed and took a seat on the ground next to her. He looked through the slits of the cage and met her eyes. They seemed to glow. He held up the flute, a light smile crossing his lips, "Hear it yet?" A low hiss escaped the cage and Peter chuckled.

"You have fire. That's good here, fire survives." Silence. Peter ran his hand through his hair, the locks had grown coarser as of late, he would need to trim it soon. "Look, let's start over. What's your name?" He was met with silence. Then,

"Cheshire." Peter froze,

"Wonderland?"

"Yes." Her voice was kurt, calculating. Peter nodded slowly. Neverland had never seen guests from Wonderland before. Of course, he had heard of the zoo that went over there but...The Cheshire Cat in Neverland? It wasn't possible.

"Aren't you supposed to be...a cat?" Dead silence. He groaned, "Okay, okay. What's this wall you spoke of?" A sigh emitted from the cage.

"I don't know, Cor - when I was brought here, it appeared. To keep me from leaving I suppose." She stuttered, trying to not reveal too much, her loyalties were still with whoever had abandoned her here. Pan turned back towards the camp. Felix was staring at him from across the fire, Peter nodded at him and stood. He rested his hand on the cage for a brief moment before heading back towards the camp.

"What was that about?" Felix's voice was hoarse, a low whisper. Peter pulled him off to the side and spoke in a low voice,

"Just trying to get some information." Felix scoffed,

"You actually trust anything that rat says? Pan, she's bad news. She HEALED herself. We don't need that kind of magic here." Peter felt a surge of annoyance. Magic was his only hope of being freed from Malcolm.

"Or maybe that's exactly what this island needs." He snapped at Felix, who immediately recoiled. "That wall, whatever the hell it is, it's preventing anything from leaving this island. That's the priority now. Remember that." Felix nodded and turned back towards the fire. Peter headed into the jungle, he had had enough with Malcolm's lost boys.


	2. Welcome to Neverland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheshire and Peter have a few moments...Cheshire begins to recognize that Peter is not all that he seems.
> 
> Pretty short chapter...more to come!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what y'all think! 
> 
> I'm terrible at plot development so my writing ends up tanking, leave any thoughts and comments! Thanks for reading :)

Cheshire   
  
That night, she dreamed. It was glorious, she was free. The wind rippled through her hair as she sprinted through a forest floor. The rotten leaves provided her bare feet with a gentle padding. Her arms pumped, sending her fast and fast through the trees. The foliage broke and she was flying, soaring across a bright blue expanse of water. Cheshire through her arms up and laughed.

She jolted awake. The sound of her own laughter echoing through her mind. The wooden slacks of the cage dug into Cheshire's back. She groaned and sat up, bumping her head on the low ceiling.   
  
[Damn him.] Her thoughts wandered to the enigma that was Peter Pan. He had heard of her, that was clear enough from their brief conversation last night. However, whoever she had spoken to could not have been the Peter Pan she had always heard of. There had been no anger in his voice, nothing to give away the horrors that lay just beneath his skin. She remembered when that pirate, Killian Jones had been his name, had travelled to Wonderland.

"He may look like a boy, but he's a bloody demon." His words echoed through Cheshire's head. It seemed so long ago, but perhaps it had been awhile. Immortality did not create a sense of importance for time. Cheshire sighed. Never in her wildest nightmares had she imagined being in Neverland, let alone trapped here.

Shouts and catcalls drew her attention from the cage. Cheshire peered out of the cracks, the lost boys were racing into camp. Isham, the bloodied one from yesterday, trailed behind the group, his nose mishappen and bent. Cheshire smiled to herself, apparently magic did not befall all the inhabitants here, just Pan. The older looking boy, Felix she had heard him called, turned towards her cage. A scar swept across his face and his eyes had no light in them. Cheshire felt a shiver go through her as he approached the cage. He crouched down the her eye level.

"You bored? Want to come out and play?" Without waiting for her answer, Felix tore the cage open and dragged Cheshire out into the open. Snarled and twisted in his grasp, clawing at the arm that grabbed her. He gave a shout of surprise as her nails cut into his skin. Felix swore and struck her across the face, sending her reeling into the center of the camp. The lost boys laughter filled the air around her. She ground her teeth, anger flooding her veins. Her natural senses tore at her skin, clawing at the surface, begging her human skin to melt away, take on the form of the infamous cat.

Oh yes, as the true Cheshire Cat, she could destroy Felix. A quick slash and his throat would be nothing but a gash. And yet, Cheshire felt her chest caving, she knew Cora was a woman of her word.

Felix slammed his foot into her chest. Cheshire's conscious came reeling back to the   
real world; well, as real as Neverland could be.

"Come now! Give us a show!" Felix's breath cut hot across her skin. She growled at him, her hand flexing, cutting into the soft flesh of his wrist. "There's a good girl." He chuckled and stepped away. "She's all yours, Pan" Malcolm stepped out from the shadows, a wicked grin plastering his face.

"Thank you, Felix." He rested his hand on Felix's shoulder for half a second before brushing past him. Malcolm stood above Cheshire and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go on a walk, hmm?"

They walked in silence. Malcolm humming and leading the way, his feet light and sure of the trail in front of him. Cheshire followed as best she could. She was still unsteady in this form, her ankles bending at the slightest change in slope. It did not help that she was trying to memorize her surroundings. The thick leaves of the jungle batted at her face, vines twisted around her feet, calling her to the ground. Malcolm chuckled. She glanced up in surprise to see him sitting on a rock twenty feet above her. He grinned down at her, one eyebrow cocked in such condensation.

"Trying to map the place, eh? Trying to learn the very breath of this island as I have? You needn't bother." He slid down the rock face, his feet slipping into the holds as though he could do it in his sleep, which he probably could. Malcolm approached Cheshire, his face inches from her own. His eyebrows raised in feigned sincerity, "You see, only I can possibly begin to understand this place. So don't bother." He stepped away from her, disappearing into the dense jungle. "Aren't you coming?"

* * *

 

Peter

Malcolm was struggling. He was pouring so much energy into impressing Cheshire that he hadn't noticed Peter's presence. Peter smiled to himself, twitching his hand forward and plucking a nearby flower. A Sorbenet, a vibrant share of pink and green marked its identity. He twirled it absentmindedly, Malcolm taking no mind whatsoever. It was then that it happened, so much like the night before.

"Wait...please." Her voice echoes through the trees. Peter felt a tremor through him as her voice reverberated in his eardrums. Suddenly, he regained control. He gasped as Malcolm clawed his way down his throat, screaming his fury, yet Pan held on. He turned around to see her emerge from the thicket. Her face was screwed into that of annoyance, black hair spilling everywhere, Peter couldn't help but smile.

"Well, since you said please." He extended his hand, a smirk lining his face. Cheshire stared at it in disbelief. She shook her head and swatted at a passing fly.

"Where are we going?" Cheshire crossed her arms, Peter smiled at her. He stepped away from her, circling her, studying her.

"Isn't there an old saying, 'curiosity killed the cat?'" She turned swiftly, following his movements,

"And satisfaction brought it back!" Peter laughed! Incredible, after all this...after every beating...she still had a fire within her. He sighed, she stared at him like he was crazy. He smiled gently at her.

"You're trapped here. I've seen the wall. So I'm showing you around to your new home." He opened his arms wide and the trees parted. Sunlight burst into the gloom as the foliage broke. Cheshire gasped, as Peter knew she would. It was hard not too.

They were standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the vastness of Neverland. Mist clung to the cliffs in the distance, the ocean lay still. Birds flew and dove, the island was alive. It was Pan's favorite spot. Of course, Malcolm had been planning on threatening Cheshire here, using the dizzying height of the cliff face to gain her undivided attention. Malcolm was all too ready to throw the image of Cheshire dangling over the edge causing Peter's skin to crawl.

[You're a monster.] Pan growled. Malcolm chuckled lightly.

[No need to remind me.] Peter grimaced.

* * *

  
  
Cheshire

It was beautiful, she had to admit. More beautiful than any overlook in Wonderland. Cheshire gazed at the expanse, viewing the beach of her origin with a slight smile on her face. Her gaze then fell to Peter Pan. He had changed again. She couldn't explain it, it was like he was two people. Although this Peter was possibly likable. She studied him as he gazed at his kingdom.

"You said this was my home." Peter turned to her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Do you disagree?" There was a tilt in his voice. A pang that caused Cheshire guilt over the fact that Neverland was not her home, nor would it ever be.

"I do not have a home. Least of all an island where I am trapped, and lack my own free will. A prison cannot be a home." With that, Cheshire turned from the cliff side and returned to the gloom of the trees. Peter's ghostly footsteps followed her, the air thick with silence.

"You don't truly have a choice in the matter." Cheshire turned to Peter, her eyes narrowed as she tried to comprehend his meeting. He smiled and vanished. Cheshire jumped, backing up quickly, her arms raised in defense. "Ah-hem." She whipped to the light cough and saw him dangling above her, perched precariously on a tree branch, a dark, thrones twig between his fingers.

"Do you know what this is?" He twirled the branch, his own eyes wary, his movements careful and calculated. Cheshire watched, apprehension growing in her belly. She shook her head quickly. "I thought not...it's a poison, Dreamshade. Extremely deadly. Never allow it into your body." He jumped down from the tree, landing lightly on his feet. "So you see, whether you consider this your home or not, it is your best interest to learn everything. Friend or enemy doesn't matter." He moved closer to her, Cheshire felt her skin crawl, yet she could not move away. Hesitantly, Peter reached towards her, the backside of his fingers grazing her cheek. Cheshire felt blood rush to her face and she turned from the boy quickly, hiding her blush.

"It's all a game, Ches. And knowledge is the key to any winning play. Welcome to Neverland."


	3. Initation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheshire finds herself bonding with the Lost Boys while Malcolm attempts to quell Peter's control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to give Cheshire a bit of a relationship with the Lost Boys as she tries to understand Peter
> 
> Let me know what you think

Peter

He stoked her cheek gently, the contact burning through his core. He needed her to know everything, absolutely every turn that would lead to her untimely death. Malcolm would see to that.

He could feel him stirring, his anger writing as Pan spoke, his hand on Cheshire's cheek. He roared with fury and tore at Peter. Peter felt the rip of nails across his hand as if it were real, and that was all it took. Malcolm reared his head, and with an easy flick of his own backhand, sent Cheshire sprawling to the jungle floor.

Peter clenched his fists as he watched Malcolm regain control and Cheshire glare at him, cradling her cheek.

[Please, please stop this.] Peter pleaded to Malcolm, yet he knew the madness of the intruder. Malcolm chuckled to himself.

[All the better to watch you burn.] Malcolm snarled at Pan as he reached for Cheshire. She smacked his hand away from her, but Malcolm was faster. He pulled the girl to her feet, a red mark outlining her pale cheek.

"Yes, dearie. Knowledge is key, but it's not real power. THIS," Malcolm threw his hand in the air, waving it carelessly about. The trees above them shuddered and curled to the direction of his hand. They creaked and groaned, batting the birds from the skies and causing the creatures hidden in their bark to flee. "This is power. Magic is power." He released Ches, turning from her. "You won't win any of my games without it, and trust me, your magic is no match for mine." With that, Malcolm strode into the black.

An invisible cord seemed to wrap around Cheshire's navel as she found herself being pulled after Malcolm's retreating figure. He could hear her blood pumping, her heart racing.

"How would you know?" Her voice was shrill, he could not tell if the change in pitch was from fear or anger. "How do you know what magic, if any, I posses?"

[Ah,] Malcolm thought, [A curious little sprout.] Peter threw himself against Malcolm, but it was no use. He fell back, defeated, cradling his head in his hands, he watched Malcolm work.

"Well you see, dearie." Malcolm spat the dearie at Cheshire, she stood her ground, glaring at his greener eyes. "YOU brought this wall to Neverland. YOU healed from it, while the dear old Lost Boys, found themselves broken and bloody the next morning after their run in. So, you clearly posses something. And don't think for a SECOND, I haven't noticed your unfamiliarity with a human body." Malcolm took a menacing step forwards, Cheshire backed away quickly, her eyes widening. Her hands hit the smooth bark of a tree, her nails dug into its flesh as she tried to steady her racing heart.

Malcolm smirked. He had won. He turned from her shivering form and began to tread the familiar path back to camp.   
  
"Come on then."

* * *

  
Cheshire

He knew.

Cheshire lay curled on the floor of her cage. The wood left splinters in her uncalloused skin, but she didn't feel them. Her mind was much too far away for a mere dozen splinters to distract her.

Pan knew she wasn't human.

Well, she was human. By birth she was human. But she had lived the last five centuries as a cat, a panther, chalk full of killing tools, racing about Wonderland, keeping pace with the roar of the winds. She had not been human for so long.

And he knew. Ches hugged her knees to her chest and fought the tears readying themselves at her eyelids. She would not give him the satisfaction of breaking her. Humans were so fragile, so easily broken and manipulated. Cheshire had let her guard down, she had aloud that mongrel to touch her, to caress her!

[Stupid, stupid girl!] Cheshire snarled at herself, and for the millionth time, tried to turn. She hated this. Hated being human again, just as Cora knew she would. Shire contracted all her muscles, her insides screaming as she tried to find her magic. It had come naturally to her in unconsciousness, healing her gashes and broken bones. But it would not come now.

Damn Cora.

Cheshire rested her head against the floor. Despite the shift in Pan's behavior, the sudden change from sincerity to savagery, he had spoken several hints to survival on this wretched island.

Knowledge. If she could learn to island, learn the shifting of the winds, the killers watches, the loyalty to Peter, she could win. She could run away, find a way to break down the wall, and disappear forever. The thought of freedom stirred something within her. A spark flew to her heart, hope. It was a powerful thing. And she would need it more than ever.

[And if I could learn Peter Pan as I learn the island, escape is inevitable.] The thought flew to her mind without warning. Cheshire sat upright. [Of course!] Cheshire pushed her hair from her face.

The enigma of Peter Pan. If she could solve his irrationality, she could destroy every rule set place on the island by Pan. Primarily the rule that no one left the island without his say so.

Cheshire settled back down into her cage, a light smile on her face. This type of work, the type brought to life by obtaining knowledge, this was old school. Her first thousand years in Neverland had been as a spy for the Red Queen. During that time, Cheshire had been ignorant to her other side...and she had learned to become a shadow as a human. She could do it again.

She would do it again.

She was going to win.

* * *

  
Peter

Peter paced inside his head. Malcolm was still reeling with anger. He too, was pacing. His long stride taking him across the camp easily, playing the flute as he went, ignoring the flurry of Lost Boys around him.

[You shouldn't underestimate Wonderland's magic.] Peter mussed softly. Centuries of hosting Malcolm had taught him all the right buttons to push. On days when boredom would have driven him mad, Peter had fashioned a game. How angry could he make Malcolm today?

[Shut up.] Malcolm spat, his teeth grinding as he cast a look at the cage thrown carelessly in the shadows. [I am more powerful. Can't you see her magics blocked?]

[Well of course. Or else she would have ripped our throats out by now.] Pan pulled a coin from his pocket, spinning it idly. He flipped it into the air and caught it, pondering. [You know,] He leaned back, forgetting all about making Malcolm angry, possibly making him lose control again. [It is possible, that whoever created the wall, created it to keep Cheshire's magic out. If you destroy the wall - ]

[I restore her power.] A shudder ran through Malcolm. Peter grinned as he realized his parasite was scared, and more surprisingly, frustrated. Malcolm sat on the ground, running his hands through his golden locks. Pan sat in silence spinning the coin.

[You're not strong enough to do both. To eradicate the wall and hold off the Cheshire Cat.] Malcolm groaned. His anger was growing again, he did not lash out, however. He knew Peter was right. Malcolm glanced across the fire, his eyes finding Felix, his crooked nose sharp against the night.

[I guess we'll have to speed up my little mission then.]

"Felix!" The boy snapped to attention. He slunk across the camp towards Malcolm. Pan felt a feeling of loss as he watched his old friend. Felix had, once so very long ago, been Peter's best friend. Then Malcolm came, and found the darkness he had always kept hidden from Peter. Yet his loyalty was truly to be admired.

"Pan, you look...worried." Felix's voice fell flat, he raised an eyebrow in skepticism. Malcolm lifted an eyebrow at the boy and scoffed.

"Please. Me, Peter Pan, worried?" Malcolm laughed and gestured towards the firelight. "Tell me, Felix. Do you not feel the air dying around us?" Felix followed Malcolm's gesture. He breathed deeply, his eyes flickering to the shadows, hungering for the darkness.

"It's happening, isn't it? The island, it's fading." He turned to Malcolm, his brow crinkled in confusion. Malcolm smiled sadly at him, resting a steady hand on his broad shoulder.

"I'm afraid so. We must find the truest believer. It is quickly becoming a priority. If we do not..." Malcolm turned from Felix, gazing into the forest. "Neverland will be no more."

[Or rather,] Pan drawled, [YOU will be no more.] He smirked, imagining a world without Malcolm. It had been so very long.

Felix growled.

"Pan never fails. We will find him. The boy from the picture, your contacts are getting closer every day. They will find him and bring him here." Malcolm smiled.

"I knew I could count on you, Felix."

* * *

  
Cheshire

She stopped counting days after about a week on the island. Days turned into nights and time became an illusion. After all, time had never quite impressed Ches. Being immortal, one hundred years was a mere blink of an eye. And if she hadn't been immortal before, she most certainly was now.

The Lost Boys liked having a Lost Girl. Although they never said it, Cheshire could tell. They were eager to release her when the sun rose. Eager to throw jaunts at her, prick her with their spears, beat her with their fists.

After awhile, she stopped reacting. She stopped fighting back. Cheshire forced herself to become passive. The cuts and bruises healed, and her skin grew tougher, and she observed. Devin, for instance, was on the lower end of their hierarchy. He tried so hard to impress and seem respectable. But he was just a scared little boy looking for acceptance. Tootles had a kind heart, and his beatings were always the kindest. Isham hated the other boys and never took part in their games of torture for her. Felix was the only one who remained a mystery to her. She knew he was Pan's confidant, yet he would not give anything away. His eyes remained empty except for the hunger of darkness, violence, pain. He was the only Lost Boy who still beat her.

Quite quickly after Cheshire stopped fighting back, the Lost Boys found new uses for her. They learned that she was a particularly good tracker. Tootles suggested they bring her on a hunt after he saw how well she followed the squirrels who danced above their heads. After only one hunting trip, Curly begged her to attend every trek.

Cheshire smiled to herself. Years of tracking outlaws and monsters in Wonderland had not failed her. Her eyes spotted to broken branches before anyone else, and her nose remained heightened, despite her human draw backs. Her feet soon remembered how to be light and quick. They learned the Boys hunting trails, and took to flying over them, silent as death.

Felix was furious when he found out what Tootles had done, of course. Peter had been scarcely seen since their last encounter. Therefore, Felix took over rule of the camp. He would have beat Tootles to a pulp if Isham had not hurled the two boar Cheshire had helped them track down at Felix. After a quick grumble about not letting her out of sight, Felix had dropped the hunting thing.

Hot food was of great importance to the Lost Boys.

Cheshire grew more and more curious as she remained silent and observed the day to day activities of the camp. She didn't understand it, the Boys did the same thing over and over. Played. Yet it was a sick type of play. Killing, fighting, and running wild was their game. It was madness.

And she loved it.

It reminded her of the madness of Wonderland, she cherished the moments of buffoonery with Slightly, who, after challenging her to a race, decided they would make good friends. When Peter became absent, which the Boys explained was normal, they became more like the children they were frozen as.

Cheshire smiled from her place in the camp. When Peter and Felix were off, the Boys didn't care if she was in the cage or not. She had gained their trust. When Peter did come around, it was the angry, violent Peter. The Other Peter, as she liked to call him.

"Oi, Lost Girl!" Curly threw a chunk of meat at her. "Eat. You've earned it." Ches picked up the meat, tearing off strips and chewing them slowly. The Boys were used to her silence, she rarely spoke. There was a certain peace in silence.

* * *

  
Peter

Malcolm had been extra careful over the last few months. He refused to go near camp if Peter had the upper hand. Peter absolutely hated it. The boredom was driving him insane. He tried, unsuccessfully, to get information out of Malcolm about what was going on at camp. Yet, he would not yield. It was getting ridiculous.

He had not spoken to Ches since that day on the cliff, and whenever Malcolm wandered into camp, she was locked away. He could tell though, by the guilty looks of Curly, Tootles, and Slightly, that Cheshire was not locked away twenty four seven, as she was supposed to be. This caused Peter happiness. She had gained their trust, perhaps she would learn to find a home here after all.

[You're pathetic.] Malcolm chuckled. [Absolutely pathetic. To think she wold ever want to stay anywhere near you.] Pan jumped to his feet, his face reddening with anger.

[It's you she hates! Not me!] Malcolm threw back his head and howled.

[And you think she knows the difference?] Malcolm threw Pan backwards. He had been keeping himself weaker than usually. Tainting his blood with Dreamshade in order to keep control. Peter hated him for it. Malcolm got on his feet and began walking towards camp. Felix appeared out of the shadows, as he always did.

"Welcome back, Pan." Malcolm nodded, a soft smile on his lips.

"It's good to be home." He entered the camp. Peter gasped with surprise.

The Boys had clearly lost themselves in their game, for Cheshire was free and running about with them. She had grown wild and hard since he had last seen her. The months had bid her well. Her hair ran down her back, wild curls caught in a think braid. Her skin was tanner and calloused, her feet quick and light and she danced away from the quick grabs of the Boys. They were playing a game of chase. Pan took not of the pheasant Cheshire held fast to her breast. The Boys chased after her, armed with knives, ready to feast on the bird. It was dinner time after all.

"What. Is. This." Felix's cold voice cut through the meadow. The Boys dropped their smiles and Cheshire froze, dropping the bird. Devin grabbed Cheshire and began dragging her towards the cage. Her eyes closed and she allowed herself to be led.

"That won't be necessary, Devin." Malcolm voice, smooth as ice, froze Devin in his tracks. Cheshire wriggled out of his grasp and faced Malcolm. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out his game. Even Peter didn't understand what Malcolm was doing. "Come now, Boys. Lets take your new...friend...for an outing. Like old days, hmm?" Isham shifted uncomfortably. He had been the newest recruit, he remembered the initiation all too well.

Mermaids.

[They'll kill her!] Pan cried out. [They don't like females, they'll drown her!] Malcolm smiled and he stepped onto the path to the Mermaids.

"I know." He whispered.

* * *

  
Cheshire  
  
She didn't understand what was happening, but she didn't like it, not one bit. Peter was close, too close. But it was the Other Peter...for a moment she thought it was Peter Pan, but this one's eyes remained their murky green, not the light blue she wished for.

The path he was leading the Lost Boys and herself was a wet one. Water clung to the air, and the soft lap of water was never far. Cheshire had seen the way Isham had reacted to Peter's announcement. She felt the same dread he did, except she knew she wasn't going to make it out alive.

Killian had told her about the mermaids after much pleading. He had explained their treacherous ways, their adoration of Pan and his Boys, and, most of all, their hatred of the idea of Lost Girls. Cheshire shivered, their singing was faint, but she could hear it.

Peter paused at a wall of moss, a secret smile lined his lips.

"We're here." He pushed aside the moss and strode into the clearing. Shrieks and giggles followed his departure as the Mermaids cooed over their "King". Cheshire sneered and allowed herself to fall to the back of the pack. The Boys, including Felix, became overwhelmed by the Mermaids. Cheshire skewed her eyes shut, so forcefully it was almost painful. She pushed herself away from the entrance and stumbled into the forest.

She didn't care that Pan would kill her for running away, she'd rather die by his hand than the watery grave that awaited her in there. Cheshire gazed at her surroundings, quickly finding a landmark to lead her to one of the hunting trails.

She ran. Her feet carried her over the slippery logs and rotten leaves. Months of following the Lost Boys and chasing game had made her more surefooted, but she had to find a trail before Pan realized she was gone. For the amount of jungle she had learned, there was still an infinite amount of unfamiliar ground at Peter's beck and call.

It didn't take long. The trees around her began to creek and sway, the air seemed to become darker. He knew. She heard his roar through the air, despite the distance.

"CHESHIRE!" She pumped her legs faster, flying over the ground, swatting at the branches that reached for her. The forest and Peter were connected. The Boys spoke of it in hushed whispers around the camp fire when they were alone. Pan brought the forest to life.

"CHESHIRE! Get back here!" A root shot out at her. She leaped to the left, only to have her leg entangle itself in a bush. Her momentum sent her tumbling to the ground, and the forest took her. Cheshire found herself surrounded by a thicket of trees, too narrow to squeeze through.

"There you are." Cheshire whipped around and backed away from Peter. His face was twisted with malice. Then, a spasm seemed to ripple through him, and Cheshire watched as his eyes shifted ever so slightly, from green to blue. Peter, looked at his surroundings in shock before his gaze fell on Ches. He moves towards her.

"Stay away from me!" Her voice cracked as she staggered away from him. Peter caught her wrists and pushed her against one of the trees.

"You shouldn't run off like that. You could get hurt!" She twisted in his grasp, feeling her wrists bruise with every pull. She snarled at him, to which he smiled. "You know, I think I'm beginning to quite like you, Cheshire Cat."


	4. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheshire faces a new initiation and Peter finally acts on his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY for being off sooooo long. School has been the death of me. Please review!! I'm not really sure where to go from here, so plot ideas would be very welcome :)

Peter

 

His heart was pounding as he held Cheshire against the tree. She was furious, her cheeks burning as she twisted and pulled, yet Peter was stronger. Malcolm screeched with fury at their close proximity and the undeniable heat coursing through Pan. Peter stared into her eyes, they were bright blue, like the ocean on a clear summer day. They were gorgeous, she was gorgeous.

"Please…Let me go." Cheshire finally gave up her struggle and sagged against the tree, limp in Peter's arms. He snapped back to reality and realized just how tightly he was holding her. He immediately stepped away from her, cursing himself for continuing Malcolm's treatment of her.

Cheshire slumped to the ground, too terrified and confused to remember that she was supposed to be running away. She sighed, resting her head against the bark of the tree. Peter stood in the middle of the clearing, watching her with concern. He truly could not tell if she was weakening as Malcolm hoped, or growing stronger as Peter prayed she would. Silence filled the air. It was unbearable. Peter shifted from foot to foot, growing anxious as he felt Malcolm's beginning to regain control.

"You should…you should go back to camp." He turned from her. "Before it's too late." Malcolm shook within him, his rage clouding Peter's vision with red as he began to exit the clearing. Cheshire remained hunched on the ground, watching the young man's retreating figure. He staggered and fell onto a tree, his entire frame shaking as Malcolm fought with his host. Peter turned to her, his blue eyes fading to green and back to blue faster than she could count. He snarled at her,

"GO!" His roar shot through her, causing her to leap up and take off down one of the many hunting trails that criss-crossed to island. Peter shuddered and collapsed to the ground as Malcolm finally gained control. Malcolm dug his fingers into the ground, his nails darkening from the moist soil. He clenched his fist and clung the dirt at a nearby tree. 

"Damn you." Malcolm ground out. "Can't you see what she is doing to you? To US?" Peter shrugged. 

[Doesn't matter to me much. Anything to get rid of you.] Peter cooed to Malcolm softly, his heart still beating rapidly from Cheshire's presence. He didn't care that she was, little by little, destroying him. Because it was destroying Malcolm as well. And even in death, Peter would be free. Malcolm flopped onto his back, his arms outstretched, staring at the jungle above him. 

[My dear, Pan, don't you realize? I'm not going anywhere. Felix will find the truest believer, and when he does,] Malcolm chuckled softly, [You and your little…pet…will be no more.] Malcolm conjured up the image of Cheshire, a broken body drifting off into the see, smacking the occasional rock, her body pale from blood loss. Peter slammed his hands against his ears, his eyes skewed shut. Malcolm roared with laughter. 

[See why they call it a crush yet?] Malcolm jabbed at Peter, feeling with glee as his presence slowly lessened. 

"There's a good lad." Malcolm murmured before he began heading back to camp. The trails caused him no bother, even if his feet weren't finely tuned to every dip and root, the forest moved for him, making sure he never tripped or fell to harm. Malcolm sighed happily. Any day was a good day when Peter lay silent in his head, temporarily broken. The poor sap had no way of hiding his feelings and emotions from his lovely parasite, so Malcolm knew exactly how he felt about Cheshire, even if Pan didn't know it yet. Pathetic. 

The jungle opened to the camp, the Lost Boys silent and somber around the fire, Cheshire locked away in her cage, back to the camp. Felix looked up as Malcolm arrived, his face giving off a flicker of joy to see him. 

"Why so glum, boys?!" Malcolm thundered as he approached the campfire. Tootles glance up, his rosy cheeks turned down into a frown. Slightly nudged him, giving him a cautious glance before they both turned their attention back to the fire. Isham coughed and stood up. 

"It wasn't kind, what you did today." He shuffled his feet, his cheeks turning red as Malcolm looked down on him. Then Isham looked up meeting Malcolm's green eyes with his own hard grey ones. "She don't deserve that," He gestured to the cage, "Not anymore. She's helped us these past few months, she's one of us. She don't deserve what you tried to do." Malcolm sneered, however, the other Lost Boys murmured their agreement. Isham stood his ground, his heart pounding with fear. Felix stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Malcolm. 

Malcolm surveyed his Lost Boys. They were all staring at the confrontation in front of them, some nodding in agreement, others whispering quietly to each other. Malcolm sighed and smiled patiently. 

"Very well, Isham. You're right. Cheshire has more than amply proved her usefulness. I have no quarrel with that." Isham looked taken aback. Malcolm waved his hand and Daniel leaped to his feet, heading towards the cage to release her. "However," Malcolm took a step towards Isham, the sky darkening. Cheshire approached the fire, confusion plastered across her face. 

"What I do have a quarrel with," Malcolm's eyes grew darker and his voice rose. The wind picked up and dimmed the fire, swirling around the camp. Peter perked up at the change in Malcolm's temperament. He surveyed the scenes and thoughts in front of him with horror. "Is having my authority questioned by you, ISHAM." Malcolm roared as his hand shot out and he grasped Isham firmly by the throat. 

Isham clawed at Malcolm's hand while Peter threw himself forward, trying to regain control. 

[STOP IT!] He screamed at Malcolm, [What is killing him going to prove?] Malcolm smirked, glancing at Cheshire. She met his eyes, fear flying across her face. Felix followed Malcolm's gaze and grabbed Cheshire, pinning her arms behind her back. Malcolm smiled. 

"Initiation, dearie, is initiation. Woman, or not." Isham's eyes bulged, saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. "But if you believe that Cheshire is one of you, then she must be initiated. And if Mermaids are not good enough for you, Isham, let us give her a different initiation." Malcolm turned to the fire, facing the pale faces of the Lost Boys. 

"SHALL WE?!" Malcolm roared and drove his free hand into Isham's side. The boy gasped and Malcolm released his grip on his neck and pulled his hand away from his side. Isham staggered, falling to his knees as he stared at his side. A thorn sat buried into his skin. 

"D-dreamshade?" Isham coughed, disbelief coloring his voice. Malcolm ignored him and turned to Cheshire, her face contorted in pain from Felix's grip. Malcolm leaned in, his lips inches from her face. 

"Welcome to your initiation." 

* * *

 

Cheshire 

 

Felix released her. Cheshire scrambled on all fours to Isham's side. She pulled at his shirt, trying to see the Dreamshade. Her heart was pounding and her human fingers stumbled over the fabric, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Isham had always stood up for her, now it was going to be the death of him. She could feel Malcolm behind her, smiling at his monstrous handiwork. The other Lost Boys formed a circle around her, cheering her on. This was her initiation. 

What the hell did that mean? 

Isham caught one of her hands, stilling the tremors. He looked into her eyes, his face pale, the poison already coursing through his veins. 

"Save…me." He whispered before dropping her hand and slumping against the forest ground. Cheshire breath pumped out of her, too fast, she was hyperventilating, panicking. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breath, slow her heart, and  **think.**  She remembered, back in Wonderland, one of her messages had been ill received. The man, a knight called Jenkins had stormed the palace and promptly gutted himself with his sword in front of the Queen of Hearts. Cheshire remembered the day like it was yesterday, the eerie calm as his intestines spilled from the soft, white flesh of his belly. The way Cora had reached into Cheshire and forced her forward, the slippery feel of his organs in her hands as she worked to heal him. She had turned to human then, in that moment. She had saved him. 

Cheshire snapped back to reality, to Neverland, to Isham in her arms. Her head shot up and she barked at Slightly,

"Bring me a tent and a cot. We need to get him off the ground, it'll be night soon." She looked at Devin as Slightly and Tootles both took off towards the jungle. "Bring me water, both cold and hot if you can. And Daniel," Daniel looked at her, his eyes wide and terrified. He and Isham were closer than the others. Cheshire sighed. "Daniel, come help me." 

The two teens carefully peeled Isham's shirt off and surveyed the black thorn. Daniel whimpered, Cheshire grimaced. Cheshire ripped a strip of fabric from Isham's shirt and wrapped it around her fingers. She looked at Daniel,

"This is going to hurt, I need you to hold him." Daniel nodded and brace himself against Isham's torso. Cheshire took a deep breath and grabbed the thorn firmly and pulled. Isham screamed, twisted forward. Daniel slammed him back into the ground, yelling at him to stay still. Blood poured from the wound as Cheshire wrapped the thorn with the cloth, burying it in the ground. She tore another strip from his discarded shirt and held it against the wound. The blood soaked through the fabric quicker than she would have liked. Isham whimpered and Daniel murmured soft praises to him, trying to keep him calm. Davin came teetering out of the woods, water sloshing from two different buckets. He came rushing to Cheshire's side, presenting the hot water. Cheshire looked at Daniel and nodded to him. She tore another strip of cloth and dunked it into the hot water. Daniel held Isham's shoulder and sighed. Cheshire steeled herself and dug the hot watered cloth into Isham's side. 

His screams filled the forest that night.

Daniel and Cheshire remained with him, enduring his screams and struggles.

The next morning, Isham lay on a freshly woven cot, banana leaves cushioning his back. His skin was pale and clammy from the fever, Daniel made sure to keep a cold water cloth on him at all times. The wound was cleaned and bandaged. Despite this, Cheshire could see the darkening in his veins. There was still poison within him. Daniel had drifted off the sleep. Isham had quieted, and his friend lay slumped against the tree holding up the lean-to that Slightly and Tootles had made. It was barely big enough for the three of them. Cheshire could hear the quiet snores and snuffles of the Lost Boys just outside. She was angry, Isham was still going to die. 

If she had her magic, or control of her magic, she could separate the poison from his blood and extract it. It was a trick she had learned after a run-in with the Caterpillar. He had poisoned her own veins with a hallucinogenic drug, Cora saw to it she learned the hard way how to rid her body of poisons. She had been a cat then. Cheshire stared at her human hands and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply. 

"Remember…" She whispered to herself, her fists closing. "Just…remember." 

Power. Magic. Life. Death. 

Cheshire breathed. 

The hot metallic of blood, the cold of poison. 

Life and death, controlled by magic. 

Separated by power.

Jenkins, his bloodied insides covering her hands, his life on her hands. Back then, she had had to put life back into the body.

Now she had to take death out of the body. 

"Please…" Cheshire whispered as she placed her hands over Isham's bandages. She sought out the death in him, placing her mind in her hands. They felt his clammy skin, the beads of sweat pooling around her fingers. His blood pumped through his veins normally, brushing against the pressure in her hands. The pressure pushed forward, past the blood, past the dancing nerves and veins, straight to his heart. The death was there, black bile waiting patiently outside his heart, as death does. The blood around it, the life, moved slowly, tiredly. The hands clenched, digging into Isham's side. He jumped, waking Daniel. The death dueled away from the pressure, away from the heart. The hands pulled, the pressure from them driving the death back out, through the veins, to the wound. Daniel surged forward. He was yelling something, but Cheshire could not hear, she just kept pulling and herding the death. Isham jerked more violently as the life around his heart surged forward with pace. The death reached the wound, soaking through the bandage. Cheshire's hands pulled away, her mind returning to her head just in time for Daniel to punch her in the face. 

"What the hell are you doing?! What did you do to him?" The rest of the Lost Boys were crowding outside the lean-to, yelling to be let in. Cheshire's head swam, her hands tingling as she watched Daniel inspect Isham's body. Panic fled through Cheshire, had she failed? His face was incredulous. "I-I don't believe it." He turned to Cheshire, a smile spreading across his face. With a flourish, he ripped off the bandage. It was soaked with a black liquid, with death. Isham groaned slightly, color already returning to his skin. Daniel laughed and embrace Cheshire, kicking the lean to over. 

"SHE DID IT!" 

* * *

 

Peter

 

Daniel's shout was met with rage from Malcolm. However, Malcolm wasn't in control, Peter was. Peter grinned ear to ear as he sat in the tree directly above the lean-to, watching the Lost Boys cheer as Cheshire passed her initiation. Malcolm had not expected that. And both host and parasite knew what it meant. 

"Guess her magic isn't being held back completely." Peter mused quietly. Malcolm slammed his fists against his mind, not bothering to answer Pan. Felix watched the celebration from the fire, roasting a chicken for breakfast. Daniel whooped again and embraced Cheshire, swinging her in the air. Peter curled his hand into a fist, irrational rage flooding through him and he watched Daniel's hand clasp Cheshire around the waist, and her own bright smile. Malcolm smirked. 

[Take a picture, it'll last longer. You know she'll never smile at you like that.] Peter growled at him before lightly jumping from the tree, directly behind Daniel. Daniel and Cheshire jumped. Peter glared at Daniel. 

"I think Isham needs your attention, Daniel." His voice was kurt and sent Daniel scurrying back to his friends side. Peter turned his attention to Cheshire, she was looking at him quizzically. 

"Something wrong?" Malcolm flashed the image of Daniel holding Cheshire against his chest to Peter, causing him to grind his teeth as he awaited Cheshire's answer.

"Nothing…it's just - " Cheshire faltered.

"Just what?" Peter snapped impatiently. Cheshire frowned at him.

"Nothing. You're usually more bearable when your eyes are blue is all." With that she turned away and headed towards the fire, her stomach grumbling from the long night. Peter gasped, and even Malcolm was taken aback. 

[Looks like you're little kitty is brighter than she looks.] Malcolm sneered, completely forgetting his attempts to regain control. Peter stayed silent, watching the Cheshire Cat rip into the chicken meat, the Lost Boys laughing and chatting away, even Felix looked normal, he just avoided Cheshire at all costs. Peter sighed and cautiously approached Cheshire. She sat towards the back of the group, a quiet observer than a true partaker of the festivities. Peter gently leaned down, his lips inches from her ear and whispered, 

"Mind if we take a walk for a moment?" Cheshire jumped as his cool breath skittered across her skin. She turned to face him, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She stood and followed him down the main path towards the beach. 

"If this is about that initiation bit being a fluke, I'll take you down." Peter chuckled at that and smiled at her. She ignored his smile and strode ahead, Peter admiring her retreating back. Malcolm rolled his eyes. 

"Actually, I wanted to apologize, for snapping earlier." Cheshire scoffed. "I'm serious. I should be praising you for what you did. Who knew you actually had control of you powers." Cheshire froze, Peter merely sauntered past here, whistling as he spun a leaf in his hand. 

"I…I don't know what you're talking - " Peter cut her off with a flourished of his hand. 

"Oh please, darling. I won't tell." He winked at her and continued walking, missing the blush that colored her cheeks. 

*****

His shadow returned to him later that night. Malcolm was furious, it had brought him a girl. Wendy Darling she called herself. Malcolm had made a quit that perhaps this darling Peter could entertain himself. After that, Peter remained silent for most of the night. Malcolm charmed her and was kind…and she was pretty. Yet Peter could not look at her in such a way. He only found himself memorizing every detail on Cheshire's face every time she came into Malcolm's view. Wendy didn't seem to like that there was another girl on the island, especially when she found out that Malcolm didn't want her. She fought him for awhile, saying how she wanted to stay here and live with him and the Boys forever. It wasn't until she heard the Boys moan and cry in her sleep that she ran to the shadow, begging to go home. Malcolm was disappointed at this, she was weaker than he liked. 

After Wendy disappeared over the horizon, Malcolm allowed Peter to gain control again. Well, he didn't so much allow it as lost the energy to fight when Peter wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled himself forward. But tomato tamato. Peter sat in one of the upper tree branches, idly playing his flute. His blue eyes followed Cheshire around the fire as she danced with the other boys, though she couldn't hear the music yet. Malcolm sat in his mind, mulling over ideas to get rid of the wall. 

[Maybe if we kill her…] Peter sighed. 

[We're not killing her. Why does it even matter? The shadow can still bring people back and forth. It's really only to keep her here it seems.] Malcolm ground his teeth. 

[Well I don't like that some bitch put an invisible wall around MY island.] Peter shook his head and began to tune Malcolm out, watching Isham as he approached Cheshire. He leaned in and whispered something to her, leading her from the fire. Peter frowned and leapt from tree to tree, following the two through the jungle. 

* * *

 

 

Cheshire 

 

Cheshire followed Isham with ease. She trusted the boy, and really had no reason not too. Besides, the jungle was getting more and more familiar to her, and she was learning how to fight in her human body. He hummed a merry tune and kept checking behind his shoulder to make sure she was following him every once and awhile. He led her to the cliff that Peter had taken her all that time ago. 

Cheshire found herself looking back on the memory with fondness, and tried to squelch the disappointment that it was not Peter with her today. 

[He's a monster.] She reminded herself. [So what if he's been nice the past few months.] Ever since Isham, Peter had been kinder and more joyous to be around. True, Cheshire had noticed his eyes were more often than not blue now, instead of green. But it didn't excuse what he is, which is a demon. Cheshire shook herself and turned her attention to Isham. The brown haired boy was smiling and watching the sun slowly set. 

"You know, I never thanked you, for saving me." Isham spoke quietly, but with confidence. Cheshire nodded and smiled slightly, 

"Don't worry about it. You have always been kind to me, so just think of it as payment for that." She chuckled, however, at her statement Isham frowned. 

"I don't need payment to be nice to you." He smiled and turned towards her. "It's easy being nice to you, you're wonderful." Cheshire shifted from foot to foot and fidgeted with a loose hair that had escaped her braid.

"That's kind of you, Isham." Isham took a step towards her, brushing the lock behind her ear. Cheshire's eyes widened and she locked at him in shock.

"What-what are you doing.." Isham cut her off, leaning in much to close, his breath mixing with hers.

"I'm saying thank you." With that, Isham closed the space between them, pressing his lips against hers.

Cheshire froze. Her very blood seemed to freeze as Isham's lips enclosed hers. They were thinner lips, and cold for some reason. His tongue swiped across her lips. Peter flashed through her mind and Cheshire couldn't help it, she pulled away just as a hand yanked Isham from her. 

Cheshire stared at the figure before her in shock. Peter stood in front of her, towering over Isham.

"What are you doing?" He spat out. Isham stared at him in confusion. Peter glowered at the Boy. "She's not here for you to grope. She's just like every other Lost Boy to you. Got it?" Peter's voice was cold. The temperature dropped at his words, and Isham scrambled to his feet. He looked like he was about the argue, but when he met Pan's eyes he paled and tucked tail into the jungle. Peter shoulders shook, his breath coming out in angry pants. Cheshire reached towards him hesitantly,

"Peter.." He whirled to face her, blue eyes glowing with rage. His face was twisted, his nose flared. Truly, Cheshire had never seen him so angry, he looked like he had lost all control of himself. Fear suddenly course through Cheshire and she stepped away from him, stumbling over a branch. Yet Peter was always faster. He caught her as she flailed, pulling her body against his chest. His breath hit her face, angry and forceful. She stared up into his eyes, trying to ignore the way her body heated up as he held her in such close proximity. Her fear seemed to dissipate, and she placed a shaking hand against his chest, feeling his wildly beating heart. For a moment her mind questioned why he was acting in such a way and in that moment it happened. 

Peter slid one arm up her back, sealing their bodies together while his hand cupped her face tilting it upward. His lips crashed upon hers in a heated kiss. His lips, the opposite of Isham's, warm and soft. The moved against hers, her lips acting with their own desires as the feverishly kissed him back. Cheshire's hands entwined in Pan's coarse hair, pulling him closer if it was possible. His tongue slipped into a dance with hers without Cheshire's permission. His hand left her face and dug into her waist, pulling her hips into his. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she felt him growing against her, her own clothing suddenly felt constricting and unnecessary. 

Then, just as quickly as it happened, Peter pulled away, gasping for breath. His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed, and his loose clothing hid nothing from view. Cheshire's blush deepened as she tried to look anywhere but down. Peter made her job easier by turning his back to her. He was shaking, as though his very being was going to explode. It reminded her of the day she almost met the Mermaids, when he had told her to go, to leave him. Like he was losing control. 

"The Other Peter wants to come out, doesn't he?"


End file.
